When
by Amanita Jackson
Summary: The Marauders talk about dying, being old, and lots of random stuff. Light, mild slash. Much better than this summary, I assure you.
1. Talking

This little fic popped into my head a while ago, whilst I had no internet acces. I have no idea where it came from. I hope it turns out better than I think it did...

Disclaimer: Slash, pretty mild, actually...see what you can catch. Umm...I think that's it...oh yes.

None ofthe Harry Potter charactersare mine. I just liberatethem on occasion and force them to do what we all know they secretly were doing but never got mentioned in the books.

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"So, lads," said James. "How d'you want to die?" 

Remus lifted his head from Sirius' chest and gave James an odd look. "Why? Tad morbid for the day after exams, don't you think?"

James just shrugged. "Curiosity."

Sirius' head shot up, eyes bright. "Haven't you heard that--"

"Yes, Pads, we have ALL heard that curiosity killed the cat!" the other three said in an exasperated monotone.

"Besides, we have no cats. We have a wolf, a dog, a rat, and a deer. So we shall be perfectly fine!" added Sirius, slightly miffed that they stopped another of his overused jokes. He ruffled Remus' hair and snickered when Remus responded by sticking his tongue out.

Sirius was jut about to take advantage of this when James spoke again.

"Seriously. How d'you want to die?"

"Of old age with you lot," said Remus promptly.

"In bed, with--" added Sirius, earning him a sharp elbow in the ribs from Remus and approving laughter from James and Peter. "Well, I concede that dying in some cool duel or something would be awesome. Only, whoever I was fighting couldn't kill me, it'd have to be something else."

"What, like the ground'll swallow you up?" asked James sarcastically.

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

James shook his head, grinning. "You're hopeless."

"Thank you. I try."

"Modest too, isn't he?" added Remus.

"What about you, Pete?" James asked.

"I dunno. I guess old age, like Rem." Peter shrugged. "What about you, Jimmy?"

James put on his Serious Thinking Face and, after a while, gave his answer. "I dunno either. Some cool explosion, I guess. I'd want it to be quick, though!" he added.

"I don't want to die when I'm old," said Sirius.

"Why not?" asked Peter. "You could pretend you were deaf and hit people with your walking stick and terrify small children--"

"We do that now," put in James.

"That's not the point. When you're old, you're _supposed_ to."

"Well, you know what they say: die young, leave a good-looking corpse." Sirius snickered.

"You are so hopeless," sighed Remus.

"I know, dear." Sirius gave Remus a kiss on the cheek.

Remus shoved him off. James and Peter clapped. Sirius sulked good-naturedly.

"Not now. Remember what happened last time?"

"All too well," Sirius flashed a malicious grin in James and Peter's direction.

"I will be scarred for LIFE!" James agreed emphatically.

Peter snickered. "You seemed to be enjoying it then…"

"But what counts as 'old'?" wondered Remus.

"What?" the other three turned to him.

"What counts as 'old'? When do you go from being young to being old?" He repeated.

"Thirty is old," stated James.

"Thirty? If you had a kid born the day you graduated, they'd be in third year when you got 'old'." Remus grinned. "Plus you'd be _really_ old by the time _I_ was. I think old is sixty."

Sirius gasped in mock horror and shot to his feet. "You count age _fifty_ as young! Or forty?" He put a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically, falling back on top of Remus.

"You are damn heavy. Get off."

"What will you give me if I do?"

"You're heavy. I'm serious. OFF."

"No, _I'm_--"

"OFF."

"Fine."

"Pads, what do you think is old?" asked Peter.

"Forty." Remus gave Sirius an approving look.

"That's much more sensible than Jimmy's."

"Yes, our niece would have kids of her own by then!"

James spluttered. "Wha? No daughter of mine's gonna--wait, who says I'll have a girl?"

Sirius grinned impishly. "I was referring to Peter. I doubt you'll be getting any that soon, Jimmy. Although who Peter would get some _from_ is--"

A wrestling match between Sirius and James ensued despite the heat, Peter and Remus watching idly.

"What d'you think is old, Pete?" asked Remus, playing with a long strand of ivy.

Peter leaned back against the cold of the castle wall. His eyes unfocused a little. "Old is…old is when you can't help anymore. Old is when you're not…useful anymore. When you can't do things for yourself. When you can't give anymore, and you can only take, and hope what you've already given is enough to balance out the taking…"

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Please review. Any feedback is appreciated. 


	2. Running

Disclaimer: I own them all. Really.

Warnings: Slash, mild again, and GASP! SPOILERS FOR SORCERER'S STONE!

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Sirius pounded on the door. "Open up, Moony, _please_ open up," he groaned as his fist hammered on the wood.

Remus opened it a little, then stepped back in shock. "Sirius? But--"

"No time. I have to go. James is dead, so is Lily, little Harry's with Hagrid, last I saw."

"But where--how--who could--" Remus blinked, mouth open, stunned.

"_No time_. Listen. Rem, Moony, I'm sorry I did what I did, it might be too late now, but I _have_ to go, so--" Sirius leaned in, eyes wild, and kissed Remus on the lips.

Then he was gone, and the rain pounded down on the empty street again.

Remus put a hand to his lips, a little dazed, then carefully closed the door.

He kept it unlocked.

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Short, yes. Sorry. Again, feedback (reviews in general, really...) are welcomed and encouraged, hint hint. 


	3. Crying

Warning: Slash if you titlt your head and squint, metaphorically speaking.

Disclaimer: Pete is mine. Peter Pettigrew...not so much. (Just my little joke, not thatIthink anyone else will actually get it...)

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Peter turned the coin in his fingers over and over again. Something to do while he waited, something that wouldn't make noise.

He shivered in the rain. He wished the Lord would hurry up so Peter could get out of there and back to his flat.

He felt something different than the cold drops of downpour on his cheek. It was warm. He reached up to brush it off.

It was a tear.

He was crying; why was he crying? It was the way James wanted to go. In an explosion. Before he got old.

Quick. Painless.

Peter's last gift to James, working hard to convince the Lord to wait just a little while, wait just a little longer, and when that failed, to make it quick.

James had changed his mind a few times on that summer day so long ago, but he'd always wanted a quick death.

Peter had never liked Lily, for reasons James couldn't or wouldn't understand, but James had liked her. James wouldn't have wanted to wait for her. So Peter had arranged it so she'd go with. James would have appreciated it.

It was what James would have wanted.


	4. Thinking

Disclaimer: Radish. Spagettios. Nuke the trinket, evil microphone. Yes, thank you, four helpings for me, as the turkey has rung the doorbell. Shoulder blades are people too, curling irons! Ice rink, potato pancake, why is the rum gone. Nick thewaterlogged pistachio, ahoy mateys,melt the ice cream it hath got bells on. (No one ever really reads these things so I figure I can write what I wish.)

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Remus sat, numb, in his chair by the fire at Grimmauld Place. People were bustling about, he thought, but he wasn't sure. He wasn't paying much attention. 

So. Sirius was dead too, now.

Remus closed his eyes. He shoved the heels of his palms against his eyes and ground them until the stars and shadows came, trying to blot out the world. Too much regret, too many things left unsaid.

He wished he could take back that fight with Sirius, after James had died.

No use wishing, brooding, he told himself. He sighed. It had happened. He couldn't change that. He had to get on with things. Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to mope around.

Besides, Sirius had gone quickly. At least, to the best of everyone's knowledge, he had gone quickly. Sirius had gone dramatically. Remus smiled a little, despite himself. It was the way Sirius had wanted to go, before he got old.

And Harry was safe. Harry was safe. That was the important thing, Sirius would have reminded him.

The last gift the world gave to Sirius.

Remus Lupin got on with his life, but every day he went to the pathetically small, inadequate memorial stone in the back garden, out of sight, and put a flower on it. Sometimes a token or an amusing story about the day. Every day, Remus gave a gift to Sirius, ones he would have given before if he'd had the chance…

No matter, he thought mildly. Sirius was getting his presents now.

Whatever he left, Remus always made sure the memorial patch was clean, just like he used to insist on making Sirius' bed or tidying up the kitchen.

Sirius would have liked that.

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I'm done with this story unless someone wants me to do Remus' death or Peter's death. Even if just one person wants it, say the word and I'll write something up. 

Hope you liked it. Please share your thoughts...


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